Outlast: Scooby Doo
by theblondeknight45
Summary: This is basically the same story as the Outlast game, but instead of Miles Upsher going in to investigate, it's the Scooby Doo gang, because I enjoy crossing things over and ruining them for some people. Terrible, I know. Anyways, it won't be a copy and paste, but many events and scenes are pretty much ripped off. Enjoy, if you dare.
1. Into Mount Massive

**I had this thought a while back, with Squidward instead of Scooby Doo...because...IDK...but I decided to write out a quick first chapter. If it catches on, I'll continue, but I can't promise anything new, especially with how busy I am. In any case, enjoy what I've done so far. I appreciate reviews.**

**So obviously, this will be a lot darker than normal Scooby Doo, because...I mean, it's Outlast. If I do continue, this will likely be changed to an "M" rating, because like the game, it'll get gorier and more grotesque and macabre as it goes on. **

**I don't own Outlast or Scooby Doo, but I am a fan of both. **

* * *

Thunder lashed out in the pitch black skies above the narrow road, riding up higher and higher to the top of the mountain. The dirt path was barely visible between the immense darkness and the pouring rain, and Fred was hunched over the wheel, trying to better see where they were going.

Everyone was a little uneasy, having heard the report from one of Velma's online connections about extreme horrors occurring at the Asylum. Unfortunately, time was of the essence, and neither the contact, Whistleblower, or the gang were in a position to call the police. That wasn't so new, being the only source of help, but the circumstances were certainly beyond what they usually were.

At last the facilities came into view, shrouded in shadows and the deep set fog. The Mystery Machine bobbed up and down as the path got rockier and less even. The road turned, extending their drive and throwing in a few more bumps. The radio, which had up until now been playing music, cut to static and no matter how much Daphne played with it, it would not work.

She shut it off as a sign partially hidden by tree limbs told them exactly where they were: Mount Massive Asylum. The gates were left open, and the entrance was sitting silently, like a wound in the night. As their van passed the gates, the walls with barbed wire atop them surrounded the gang, and they drove up to the guard shack, which was also barren.

"Well, this is it gang…" Fred announced as he shut off the engine.

"Like, this is way creepier than normal...maybe we should forget about this one," Shaggy quickly replied, hoping to dissuade his friends, for a change, to drop the mystery.

"Of all our cases, this one might be the most urgent," Velma scolded as she exited out the left door.

Daphne grabbed an umbrella and followed her out and the girls met Fred, who had gone out before them and checked the second gate ahead, which was unlocked. Shaggy and Scooby climbed out the back, the skinny teen carrying a backpack, which he handed to Velma as the group came together again.

"Well, the gate's unlocked and the guard shack is empty, but the computer isn't working right; think you give it a look at Velma?" Fred informed and asked.

"Sure, come with me Daph, I might need an extra set of hands."

"Take Scooby too," Fred said, causing their dog to look up in surprise, "he might be able to sniff something out; Shaggy, let's go and see if we can actually enter the Asylum."

The duo left the others behind and walked forward, as the rain continued to pour down. They came to a small recreational park, a bench and some trees, as well as a few shrubs and lamps, nothing impressive or noteworthy. The park led them right up to the doors of the Asylum reception center. A few heavy grade trucks were parked nearby.

"Hey, this is weird," Fred commented as he got close to one of the vehicles, "looks like we aren't the first ones here...somehow."

"Good, then let's go!" Shaggy suggested.

"No chance, we have to at least find Velma's friend. He could be in trouble."

"The places we go are normally pretty spooky, but this just isn't right, Fred! I'm telling you, something really bad is waiting for us this time. Something _really_ bad."

"We'll be okay. We always are."

Fred didn't sound as resolute as Shaggy usually heard him. In any case, the doors to the main hall were firmly locked, and the intercom was out of order. Despite his best attempts, Fred could not get the doors to open, and Shaggy had gone over to the side of the building to look it over.

Velma, Daphne, and Scooby had finished in the guard shack, and approached the blonde teen with unsure looks, especially Scooby.

"We got into the camera systems, and I almost wish we hadn't," Daphne said, clutching the umbrella close.

"Very strange things have happened here, as you can see by the military trucks," Velma told him, "but on top of that, the security system showed us footage that...well, it can't be accurate. It looked like a ghost…"

"A ghost did what?"

"Murdered them. Murdered everyone. This isn't a normal mystery Fred."

Shaggy then walked over, looking over his shoulder and watching the area he'd just looked over. He and Scooby were already trembling.

"Unfortunately," he reported, "I found a way in…"

He led them to a gate, locked tightly with a chain, but also bent inwards, as though some wild creature had wanted to enter the Asylum before the gang arrived. The space was small enough for them each to crawl through, and they did so one at a time, digging deeper into the skin of the cursed Asylum.

To their right, a light flickered on and off over a backdoor to the main hall, but it too was locked from the inside. The building was being overhauled, or at least repaired a ways away, and an investigation of the construction site yielded a way in.

Fred climbed up the scaffolding, helping up the other four and leading them higher up, to the windows of the Asylum secretary section of the building. A couple floors up and they found a window had been left open.

The light had been flickering since they spotted it, but upon their arrival, the bulb exploded and they were in the dark again.

Shaggy and Scooby were holding each other close, and Daphne scooted closer to Fred as Velma rummaged through her backpack. Taking out a neon glow stick, she snapped it and shook, bathing the torn up room in bright green light. The light revealed a mess of furniture that had been thrown around, a sea of papers, smashed electronic equipment, among other components of a mess.

"Jeepers!" Daphne exclaimed upon looking down, where a pool of blood had stained the ground.

"Zoinks, this is bad news gang, I'm telling you!" Shaggy whined.

Scooby buried his eyes under his paws and shook with fright. They all stared at the red mess for a moment, realizing how deep they were into a heinous puzzle.

"Let's go…."

They found the door and opened it, revealing the inside hallway, also torn up and thrown into chaos. They seemed to be alone. The entered another room, also dark except for the static gray light of a malfunctioning monitor. Working their way to the door again, they opened it up to a lit section of the hallway.

They had to squeeze through a hastily made barrier of bookshelves, which opened up the rest of the hall. They passed by several offices, all of them barren. More blood ran on the floor and even on the walls. The hum of the fluorescent lights above them and the rustling of the steady wind flowing through a window somewhere were the only noises the Asylum made.

Stapled to the wall was a manilla folder with a few papers labeled "Murkoff Records". Velma tore it off and read through it with Fred and Daphne.

"Project Walrider?" Velma read from the paper, "This is some edgy stuff. Legal science isn't usually coordinated like this."

"Talk about a clue," Daphne commented.

"Put it in your pack, Velma, and let's keep moving. I feel like the sooner we're gone, the better," Fred told the others.

"Like, I tried to prevent exactly this…" Shaggy told Scooby as they followed along.

They came to two open doors, one was a restroom the other was a larger space, an office lounge or meeting room. The door to the bathroom quickly slammed shut and locked, and the gang froze in place for a second.

"What do we do?" Shaggy panicked in a whisper.

"Run!" Fred advised and hurried into the meeting room with the others, shutting and locking the door as well.

"Well, we aren't alone," Velma said.

"Like, this is too much!" Shaggy pleaded, "Let's get back out and leave!"

"You go if you want, but we can't leave. Not anymore...this is a mystery beyond any we've ever faced. To walk away now...it wouldn't be right," Fred explained.

"But it would be safe!" Shaggy argued.

"We're not leaving, Shaggy, that's that," Velma pressed.

Daphne went over to the second door, but it was jammed from the other side. Not keen on the idea of going back the way they came, the gang spotted an open vent above them, and it just so happened that a large blood stain was resting over the vent, on the ceiling.

They moved the large table over and climbed on it, giving them enough of a boost to reach the vent. It reeked with the smells of decay and danger. As usual, Fred was the first to go up, followed by Daphne and Velma, then Scooby and Shaggy in the rear.

The vent led them past several other offices and joint rooms, and soon they found a section of the vent was broken off, forcing them to drop down. It was almost a relief, but upon landing in the main hall, they found it was even worse than the offices.

Ransacked and sculpted away at by devastating forces, like a victim of psychopathic malpractice, the main hall was a terrifying stockpile of demolished furniture, rubble, and destruction. More blood than they'd ever seen was etched all around, nearly painting the walls. The second level, where they landed, wasn't as bad, but a graveyard of corpses was lying on the first floor.

"Oh my God…" Daphne was the first to exclaim.

"This is bad...this is so very, very bad!" Shaggy screamed and took off running down the hall with Scooby right behind him.

"Come back!" Fred yelled, but the two were far gone.

"Let's follow them," Velma advised, "We don't know what kind of trouble they could get in."

Scooby and his owner had no direction, they didn't know their destination or their environment, only the fear that propelled them forward. They ran into a dark room and heard the sound of the rain pouring outside, and felt their way towards the window.

As they crept closer, they found a man, impaled and hanging, but not quite dead. He was a guard, before whatever monster found him harmed him so. The two friends were petrified with fear as the lightning illuminated the guard's form and he coughed up blood.

"Go...get out! Get out now!"

He began hacking again, but Shaggy and Scooby heeded his words and ran off, not hearing the rest of the gang who were close by the door. They sprinted down the hall and rounded the corner, coming to another barricade.

Scooby squeezed himself through and Shaggy was right behind him, until a large, hulking hand grabbed him from the neck and pulled him back out.

"Little piggy come to die!" The monster exclaimed, his face pale and distorted and unnaturally blank.

"ZOINKS!" Shaggy cried out as the monster of a patient stomped over to the railing above the first floor, and threw Shaggy into it, breaking the glass as he fell to the hard floor below.

"Raggy!" His friend called from the other side of the barricade.


	2. Deeper into the Asylum

**Well, I decided to continue, but with AP tests coming up and a plethora of other business to attend to, I can't say when, or sadly if, the next part will be released. I don't know, I'm having some fun jotting most of this down, but I can't seem to force myself to commit to it. **

**I also want to mention, especially if this goes on in the future, that there may be some spoilers to Outlast in this fic; of course, the story itself is based off the game, but I can't promise to leave out some of the many intricate details, and if you happen to be watching the game through, or God help you, playing it, I might spoil some other things for you. You have been warned.**

**As if it needs to be said, I do not own either property. Enjoy. **

* * *

His insides burned as he sat up and he felt the room sway back and forth. Or maybe he was swaying, it was difficult to tell. Scooby was in the distance, staring at him, as if unsure of Shaggy's identity. He was woozy, but the skinny man was able to get to his knees. It was then that he noticed the older man beside him.

"Easy, son…"

Shaggy's eyes shot open and he stumbled back, fearful of the man whose intentions, past, and thoughts he was unable to determine. He was bald and his face was haggard, broken looking, yet he retained an air of experience and wisdom as well. Other worldly wisdom, to be sure, something far past supernatural, but wisdom regardless.

"Who...who are you?" Shaggy asked, still recovering from the fall. He stumbled onto his chest again when he remembered the burly man that threw him down. How long ago it was, what lifetime that horrific event occurred in, he had no idea.

"I am Father Martin, and you...you are my prophet, son."

"What?"

"Ah, but you are weary...and I fear our friend will be back soon...rest."

"Father" Martin moved his hand over Shaggy's face and an immediate and all-consuming blackness overtook him, and the image of his terrified dog looking on in hopelessness went from the dismal yellow glow of the atrium, into a dying gray, and at last, all was dark.

…

"Where'd he go?"

"What happened? Who did this…?"

The questions that come from the girls' mouths did not reach Fred's ears. Scooby had been found, too shocked or spooked to relate what had happened to his best friend. Blood was everywhere here too. There was so much blood...it couldn't all have been man's.

The moonlight was flowing in through the cracked windows above the doors. Every so often, they could hear voices. Whether they were real or imagined, cries of relief or unimagined terror, was not discernable. They were not alone, not by any means, and that could prove to be their salvation, or damnation.

"The only option now," Fred finally told the girls, "is to find Shaggy….and leave."

"What? We can't leave, what happened to saving the day, stopping the horrors and monstrosities?" Velma questioned.

"I want to do that Velma, but…"

Daphne watched the two exchange looks and shivered as a faint wind came from some invisible geyser down the hall. Scooby was still laying quietly, tail beneath his legs and paws over his eyes. She couldn't blame him.

"Now more than ever, we're in danger," Fred argued, "now more than any other time, we're in over our heads. If it was the military that was out there, then we can't do anything, and even if it wasn't, we're still in a lot trouble."

"Which is why we have to do this and live up to our creed. To our promise to help. Whatever the mystery of Project Walrider is, it's worth investigating."

"Even with our lives on the line?"

"..."

"The exit is right here, so close...we may not get this chance ever again. I'm going to find Shaggy. Stay with Scooby, and stay here. If we're not back in half an hour...take the Mystery Machine and go."

"No!" Daphne interjected, placing her hands on Fred's arm.

"Forget it, I'm not leaving!" Velma added.

"Don't you get it?" Fred snapped, eyes teary, "We're too far up the river...we're in way too deep already...I'm scared out of my mind, and is it any wonder why? Take a look at this place, take a good look at all that dark red, organic paint on the walls. Do you want to become part of it?"

Velma waited for Fred to wipe away the moisture, considering his words carefully, but remaining resolute, "I do know...and I understand we could die here...but I left a friend in here, and I can't leave without knowing that I saved him, or had no chance of saving him in the first place."

"Please...we have to come to an agreement here," Daphne pleaded.

"There's no other choice. It's leave now, while we can, or die. Physically or psychologically, if we stay...we die," Fred warned.

"I'm staying…" Velma said.

Her glasses hid her pupils, and most of her irises, but the staunch opposition to retreating was written clearly on her lips, and her cheeks, resembling stone. If there was ever a time when Velma was more unafraid than Fred, it was now.

"Then we stay…" Fred lamented.

"Now, what about Shaggy?" Velma inquired.

"Scooby...you've got to tell us what happened," Daphne said, crouching down and pulling Scooby's head up.

The great dane whined and looked out towards the unlocked doors of the exit, and heard the pouring rain that was the sign of freedom. He looked up at Daphne, but put his head back down again, unable to accept her offer.

"Give us a minute?" Daphne suggested.

Fred went to the offices to the right and Velma headed left. As on the second floor, these offices were ransacked, destroyed beyond a shadow of a doubt. Fred found it difficult to navigate in the darkness, but he managed to stumble onto a cracked camcorder, and was amazed to find it had a decent amount of life in it.

Using the nightvision feature, he fumbled around the office a bit, and found a blue folder sitting on a keyboard; he grabbed it in his hand and read it to himself as the rain pelted the window near him.

"_Patient Billy Hope remains the only successful subject of the morphogenic engine. Subject Edward Gluskin has escaped, evidently hiding in some crevice of the facility that we do not have eyes. The place is going to hell anyways. The cogs are groaning. Straining. I fear a breakdown is close. A complete injection of the mad brew we're making, and when that happens, anarchy alone will rule the day here at Mount Massive...and if unchecked...maybe the rest of the state. The country? Dare I say, the world?"_

The name was torn off with the very top of the paper, and similar reports all bore different names. Now, other questions, perhaps of an equally sinister nature, smaller pieces of the large puzzle called Walrider, were appearing. Who is Billy Hope? Is he still around? And what exactly is the Morphogenic Engine?

Fred kept a hold on the blue folder, and also found a battery in a desk drawer, but his searches yielded little else. He met back up with Daphne and Scooby just as Velma was returning.

"I found another clue," Fred reported.

"Another report?" Daphne asked.

"Yeah. It's from one of the staff members hear, and it sounds like some pretty interesting, not to mention illegal and inhumane occurrences were going on before whatever breakdown caused this. The report mentions a key patient of the asylum, a Billy Hope. See or hear anything about him?"

The girls and Scooby all shook their heads, and Fred glanced over his shoulder before looking down at the folder again.

"What about something called a morphogenic engine?"

Again, the shaking of heads and the air of mystery that grew wider, and more menacing, with each passing second. Another scream from down the hall.

"In any case," Daphne spoke up, "Scooby told me what happened: Shaggy was captured by something big and...strong…"

The look on her face, the one that dug under her skin and poisoned her brain with fear, was unmistakable.

"He said it was large, menacing...mentioned a little pig...and threw Shaggy down here."

She gestured over to several shards of broken glass, and a hole in the barrier above. Something fell, and if it was Shaggy, he was going to be down for a little while. Another scream, this one louder, unmistakably louder.

"That's not a lot to go on," Fred said, "We should make a plan, I'll-"

The power shut off without warning and all the lights went out, making the thunder and lightning outside the only source of comfort until Velma pulled out the glow stick. Fred handed her the blue folder and brought up his camcorder. The backup lights, it seemed, were not coming to life.

"New plan," he told them, "We stay together, and we find the power. If we find Shaggy before then, even better. But we won't last hardly as long in the dark, especially with whatever monster found Shaggy."

"I think I know where we might find the power," Velma told them, "if I read the map correctly."

…

Shaggy awoke locked in a security room. He found a flashlight, three batteries, and a note on the floor beside him. He rubbed his head and flicked the light to life, using it to read the note.

"_Yes. Surely you are my prophet, sent to me by the Great Spirit himself. Praise be. I must show you his work. I must reveal his mysteries to you. Only you can do this. Be strong my son, be brave. Your labor has just begun, but by the end, you will see with enlightened eyes and a changed heart. I will be watching. _

_-Father Martin"_

Shaggy's ears rung, but he was feeling much better now than when he awoke the first time. No sign of Scoob or the others. No idea where exactly he was. He picked up the batteries and left the note behind, wandering into the shadows of what he believed to be the deeper organs of the administration block.

He heard more than one scream of terror in the distance and was careful to stay out of the main walkways as much as possible. Dead bodies everywhere. It was too much, too real to be true. Had he died? Was this what the afterlife was for him? A bleak, never ending nightmare? A reflection of the culmination of all the horrors of his life?

He wandered into an electronic room and found a dead computer system. He tried several buttons and switches, but no combination seemed to breathe life back into the system. He gulped as he heard loud footprints behind the glass, sounding out in the halls.

He ducked down and flipped off the flashlight, sitting under the glass as the hulking monster that threw him down earlier passed by, sniffing the air like a hellhound.

Shaggy heard him mutter something about "little piggies" having "gone amok". He waited several minutes before picking himself up, knowing that he had to get out. This was the problem, however, because the way out was always guarded by some monster, some figment of terror. Except Shaggy wasn't used to it all being so...very real. Nor was he so used to being as isolated as he felt.

The map on the wall noted that the two starters to kick the system back to life, in other words, a way to open up the main doors and escape, were located in the sewers underneath the administration building. Something told him it was going to be a long trek down.

He found a blue folder, the word "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped onto the cover in red ink. He flipped through it and found one paper that stuck out to him, for some reason. Upon taking it out, he found a picture of the monster that attacked him, and he nearly jumped out the glass with shock.

Nerving himself, Shaggy looked down closely at the paper and the picture, and read it through.

"_Variant Subject 1713: Chris Walker. Former Military Police in the U. S. Army, diagnosed with schizophrenia in 2003, placed in Mount Massive 2007. Tests with the Morphogenic Engine have rendered him, as with many others, a complete failure. He, however, has shown a more violent and sadistic nature than most other failures. A watchful eye, and a loaded gun, are wise to keep around him. Do not provoke. Do not engage if he escapes." _

Shaggy heard the very man himself breaking down a door nearby and flipped of the flashlight with shaking hands. He knew the only escape was out the door and into the maw of danger, but he could not force himself to move from the relative shelter of the office.

He knew this was a terrible idea.


	3. The Horrors Truly Begin

**The next part is here, mostly because I felt the need to just sit down and write for a little bit. I've been feeling a loss of creative spark the past several days, and amid trying to find a job and plan out my immediate future, stuff's been crazy. In any case, I present the next piece of this story to you, and as I mentioned before, this story will soon become "M" rated, because Outlast is not for the faint of heart nor the weak willed. It is intense through and through, and I don't plan on holding back as it goes on...  
**

**Reviews are appreciated more than scooby snacks here :) Enjoy. (oh, yeah, I still don't own squat, but I reserve the right to be a shameless shmuck. **

* * *

As the door to the basement creaked open, Shaggy's heart stopped. The asylum was already driving him a little insane, and each shadow threatened more than its predecessor to jump out at him, and every pool of blood on the floor held a more crisp face. The smell of dank, rotten water assaulted his nose, but he could tell it wasn't all water.**  
**

He descended the small staircase and found a pathway leading into an even more ominous darkness, so he opted to squeeze through the hole in the wall, where a flickering light offered minimal comfort.

A fresh corpse was laying face down in the water, and the flashlight flickered for a second. A repulsive odor clung in the air down the way, where the generators were. He poked out his head, and immediately flung it back inside, clinging to the wall for dear life as an inmate slowly walked towards him.

Shaggy prayed silently that the man did not see him, and he felt a cold sweat overtake him as the man's pace got slower as he approached the hole in the wall where Shaggy was hiding. The inmate stopped altogether, peering around the darkness, like a cat on the hunt for blood. His deranged figure stood like a statue for a moment, gazing out in the eternal blackness, and then, at long last, he began walking back the way he came.

A patrol? Shaggy nearly fell to his knees when the inmate got far enough away.

…

Fred, Daphne, Velma, and Scooby Doo wandered the halls, cautious of any life that was poking around and looking for someone to torture, kill, or eat.

They passed by a bathroom with three stalls, the middle one opened and covered in blood, the right and left stalls, closed, and somehow, more ominous. They continued down the hall until they reached a barricade they could not get through. The only way around took them into a room where a television was playing static feedback.

Several inmates were "watching" it, staring into it like addicts longing for their next fix. Fred shielded the girls and prepared for them to attack, but they just kept staring, not even flinching as the gang crept in behind them and found the door.

They exited and found the hall again, and another folder stapled to the wall. Fred picked it off and read it aloud.

_Tests with Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Morgan have proved the validity of morphogenic engine research. Of course, they both received minimal exposure and though the test was successful, the real world applications of the engine will have to be conducted on a much larger scale. At least corporate will enjoy the news. _

_Dr. Wernicke was kind enough to lend me the notes I requested, and based off his earlier research, we've lined up several candidates for prisoner testing of our next generation design. With the improvements, I'm sure we will find greater success. In any case, it won't hurt us. The inmates, well...there's plenty of them to go around, right? _

"Jeepers...it's hard to believe people like that exist in this world," Daphne muttered.

"Come on, we've got to find the generators, not to mention Shaggy and my friend Waylon," Velma said, pushing farther down the hall. The others followed, and a brief moment of calm was granted as they turned the corner and found that nobody had been killed here.

The walls were clean and white, the floor was barely cluttered at all, hardly a picture frame was out of place. It almost brought a smile to their collective face.

Amidst all the chaos and havoc of the asylum's breakdown, small wins like this meant a lot. There was some place, even in this wretched facility, where the danger could not reach. The psychopaths could not spoil everything, nor could the menacing will of the corporation infect every crevice of the establishment. It was a very small win, but a win none the less.

But like everything else that went right that night, it was short lived, and soon forgotten.

"GAH!" Velma screamed at the top of her lungs as a hand dashed out of the darkness, and a deranged patient strapped into a wheelchair within the shadows pulled her away.

"Pretty...pretty...stay away…" the man told himself, dragging Velma closer to his lap.

"Stop right there!" Fred demanded, punching the patient in the face and knocking him out. Velma was shaking, and gladly rejoined her friends.

"Thanks…" Velam breathed out, clinging to Daphne's side.

"Let's keep moving, we shouldn't be far from the secondary stairwell now, and generators are right down in the basement," Fred told them.

…

"Who's there?" Someone demanded as Shaggy crept through the water filled hall, closer to the generators, and possibly, his own demise.

The water splashed in the distance as someone, presumably the inmate from before, ran out to where the gas pump controls were. The door Shaggy closed and locked behind him rattled as someone on the other side rammed into it. The lock was fine, but the door itself was old and weak, and could break apart at any moment.

Shaggy took cover in an empty crate, sliding the top over himself to hide. The door continued to shake and groan as the force on the other side was ever violently applied to it. He clutched the flashlight tensely as the door broke open and the inmate looked around with a deranged expression on his burned, disfigured face.

He was a tall, somewhat slender man, but he held in his hands a 2x4, and poked around with it a little bit before turning back into the hall from which he came. He set down the weapon and hauled a corpse in over his shoulder, using a chain to suspend it from the ceiling and hang it to dry. The blood did not stop raining down from the body even after he left once again, content that his abode remained undisturbed.

Shaggy slid the lid off the crate and crept up a few stairs into a generator room. He felt the relief of smelling oil and machinery more than the repugnant odor of blood and devastation that hung over most of the asylum by now. He pressed the button to restart the generator and it whirred back to life. Unfortunately, it also brought the inmate back, screaming with his 2x4 in hand.

Shaggy jumped behind the generator and pressed himself down into the shadows, trying to blend in with the dark world around him. The patrolling inmate looked around, and fixed his eyes on the generator, making Shaggy's heart skip several beats.

His eyes widened as the inmate crept closer, leaning in to better examine the suddenly sparked to life piece of industry. He licked his lips and stared, stared deep into the face of the button. Shaggy almost jumped out when a noise from outside the generator room broke the quiet. The corpse plunged into the water and the chain fell with it, drawing the inmate away. Shaggy couldn't stop the tears as the man left him alone once more. One more...just one more generator.

…

The rain pelted down on the roof even harder than it had when the gang entered, and the thunder practically shook the whole building. Fred led the girls and Scooby through the hall until they found the stairwell.

It was within reach, but at the final moment, it was taken away. The next time the lightning struck, it crashed down in front of the stairs, and a fire began kindling to life. Fred jumped back to avoid electrocution, and Scooby began bolting for the emergency exit door.

"Oh no, the sprinklers won't work, we haven't fixed the power yet!" Daphne exclaimed.

"And this fire is spreading way too fast, there's probably gas in the floor!" Fred added, turning back and running from the scorching blaze that was ever growing and consuming the devastation in the asylum.

Scooby held the door open as the gang rushed out, running into the rain and gladly escaping the horrors of the administration block. The door slammed shut and the gang put a fair distance between themselves and the door, but to their shock, the alarms blared out at that moment.

"What? Someone else turned the power on…" Daphne said as the fences regained electricity.

"We just got locked out...and I don't know if that's a bad thing or not," Fred told the gang as he began looking around.

"Maybe we can find another way in," Daphne replied.

"Or maybe it would be better to search somewhere else," Velma countered, "there's no way of knowing where Shaggy is, and we haven't seen or heard anything about Waylon yet. There's a whole lot more to this place than just the administration block."

"Let's try and think like Shaggy for a second...where would he go if he was all alone in here?" Fred asked.

"The Rexit!" Scooby chimed in.

"Right, but we know there's a monster...or something...lurking in there, and it's probably guarding the exit. Where would he go then?"

"...Anywhere," Velma answered.

"Yes, so we've got to contact him...somehow. I figure there's a couple places we could go to find the asylum speaker controls. Maybe we'll even find a radio, be able to contact someone...we can only guess right now, but we've got to at least find somewhere where the intercom links to."

"How about there?" Daphne asked, pointing to a sign on a nearby building.

_Operating Rooms 11-20, Crematory, Pharmacy, Guard Stations 5-6_

"It's worth a shot," Fred said as he trudged through the rain towards that section of the facility with the others close behind him.

…

"Zoinks!" Shaggy called as he ran out of the flooded basement, being chased wildly by the maniac with the 2x4.

He rounded the stairwell and threw down an overturned walker, giving himself perhaps an extra two or three seconds advantage. He'd gladly take it.

The security room wasn't all that far, and he'd outran plenty of monsters, ghouls, and villains in his time. And yet, throughout all that time, nothing had prepared him for the torment of this asylum. This place was beyond anything he'd ever experienced, and he never wanted it to begin with.

He hurdled over another small barricade and kept running on.

"Come back here! Varmint! I'll kill your face!"

The patient with the 2x4 was still close behind, and nothing much was slowing him down. Shaggy pushed himself into overdrive and sprinted through the halls, almost fast enough for the corpses, the blood, the gaping wounds in the building to pass by him unnoticed.

The teen rounded the next corner and shouted in horror as the burly man, former soldier Chris Walker, was waiting on the other side. They shocked each other, but Shaggy was already half way down the hall as Walker gave chase, calling out in his own sick fashion to Shaggy.

"Little piggie come back! Little piggie go away forever!"

"Hey! I'm still gonna get you!" The other inmate shouted, and in doing so, ensuring his own demise.

"Little piggie bring friend!" Walker said as he swiped his massive fist into the patient's chest.

The inmate dropped the 2x4 and broke the wall open with his back before Walker picked him up again and slammed him into the ground.

"No! No! No! No! No!"

Chris Walker's fist crushed half of the man's skull into pieces and, he stopped mumbling after the second punch killed him indefinitely.

Shaggy, having heard these events as he opened the security room door and shut himself inside, breathed in and out heavily, staying hidden in the shadows of the room as the screens flickered with images and text, reporting everything that was happening in the asylum, except for a few areas where the feed had been cut.

He held himself tightly and tried to endure the flash of images that ran through his mind as he replayed the sounds of the man being killed by the behemoth that had no remorse or any comprehension of emotion outside of rage and violence. Shaggy double checked to make sure the door was locked, and was pleased to see it was.

He went over to the monitors and browsed around, then finally found the controls for the main exit. He swiftly unlocked them and smiled, his first true triumph of the night. He checked several different feeds for his friends, but before he found them, a hand reached out from behind him and dragged him away from the console.

He struggled and tried to break free, but a sedative was injected into his neck and he quickly felt the adrenaline being overtaken and pushed away. He fumbled around and continued in vain to try and break free, until he was let down on the floor by his attacker.

Father Martin smiled as he set the shot to the side.

"Not yet, my son...not yet. There is work to be done yet."

Shaggy may have dreamed it, but as he slipped into unconsciousness he felt the terrible presence of something sinister, and whether or not it was real, the fear he felt pulsating inside him from the vision was.

He swore a presence was lurking through the asylum. He swore a vengeful entity was haunting the grounds, killing indiscriminately like Chris Walker and the other psychopaths. He swore he heard the awful name, the calling sign of the arbiter of doom. He swore the Walrider was there with them.


	4. Full Despair

**Sooooooooooooooooooo...it's been ages, eh? I apologize, as I have stated many times before, I am too good at coming up with ideas, and not good enough at seeing them through. As a result, many works suffer, which is why I tend to do many one shots. Either way, I'm glad you have enjoyed this story so much, it remains a very popular one of mine, and I never dreamed it would be. I am once again very sorry for the large delay, I can offer no excuse or explanation other than I simply have so much to do and limited time to do it all in. (On another note, if George R. R. Martin isn't your bitch, I don't see why I should be. That's my only defense here, and I'm not excusing myself, really, just pointing it out. Delays happen, but this has been an unacceptably large one.) **

**On another note, this story is officially M rated now. I think I stepped up the intensity this chapter, and believe you me, the "best" is yet to come. (Hopefully I can get the next parts up before a year or so passes, huh? Doh!) And we have a cover image that isn't my profile pic! Yay! Don't sue me guys...Red Barrels, huh? I just googled "Outlast Scooby Doo" and found a Chris Walker picture, lol.**

**Thanks for checking back in and/or continuing, I hope you enjoy! **

* * *

Shaggy moaned as the sedative wore off. His mouth was dry, sapped of life from the screaming he'd been doing. As he slowly rose off the padded bed and took in the horrors around him, he recalled why he'd been so terrified. Never before had he so yearned to be rid of a mystery. Whatever hell on Earth that had happened here at Mount Massive, he could care less, just so long as he was very, very far away from it.

He was locked inside an inmate's cell, given the circumstances, the previous occupant was more than likely dead or dying. The gruesome truth of the situation hit when he began examining the padding on the walls, and the messages scrawled on them in blood.

_The truth is here!_

_RIP Wernicke. To hell with the doctors_

_NO ACCEPTANCE_

_GET the BLOOD OUT_

_The truth is dead_

_Hail Walrider Hail Messiah Hail Hail Walrider _

_This is the EXPERIMENT of the DEAD ON THE LIVING _

Shaggy found the flashlight, plus an extra battery on the equally padded but less graffitied floor beside the bed. He pocketed the battery and kept the flashlight close by him. This part of the facility was well lit, and mostly intact. The door swung open ominously, but as Shaggy nerved himself to peak outside it, Father Martin was nowhere nearby.

Several patients were out of their cells, some were still locked inside. Shaggy was uncomfortable with them all, but was thankful the released ones did not appear to mind him much. The cell he had left was on the ground level, but there was no discernable exit, so, trembling along, he ascended the catwalk to the second level.

He had just made it to the top when two voices, identical and sinister in their monotonous tone, made him stop cold.

"Swallowed up by the asylum."

"Oh dear."

"Looks like the priest's little shit."

"I want him."

"As do I."

Shaggy backed up the wall. Behind a, mercifully locked, metal door were two patients, twins, with complimenting scars and not so much as a sock worn between them. Their grotesque nudity hardly dawned on Shaggy though. Their words had trapped him unlike anything else yet had.

"I shall eat his liver. And his tongue."

"Then I will take the stomach."

"May I indulge in his eyes?"

"If I can take the toes."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Shaggy forced himself to move on as the brothers continued to plan out and divide their spoils, which Shaggy planned on keeping all to himself. He ran onwards, and made it to the end of the long row of second story cells when the naked brothers departed into the shadows of their part of the cellblock. Shaggy had no choice but to round the corner of the rectangular block and go through the gate, which was unlocked, but sticky and hard to force open. Once he did pry his way through, he found another long hallway, full of doors and blood splatters and footprints.

When would the nightmare end?

…

The echoes in the Operating Rooms were ghastly and haunting compared to the melancholy isolation of administration building. Fred and Daphne had managed to get themselves separated from Velma and Scooby, and were wandering through the many dark and unbelievable halls and the flickering lights that illustrated medical horrors unlike anything in their sickest nightmares.

Daphne accidentally brushed a body as she passed, and it gasped for air and reached desperately for life through its blinded eyes, flipping around on the operating table, its body left incomplete and unfinished, though the changes looked less constructive and more demeaning than anything else.

"Trager….Flee…..TRAGER!"

Fred darted to his friend's aid and removed her from the dying thing on the table. They were both pretty jarred by now. The Asylum was bigger than they had imagined it would be, and thus, there were numerous more terrors, some lurking beyond them, some in plain view. All of them unwanted. It felt like an eternity since they had seen Scooby and Velma, and twice as long since they'd seen Shaggy.

Another note on the wall, this time blood drops along the side of it.

_I've talked to a lot of people at Murkoff: Andrew Smithers, Charlie Bojdeck, Jeremy Blair, Samantha Wilders, Rick Trager, among others. Each one compliments the stories of the rest, none of them linking perfectly, but the cracks that exists aren't enough. We can't prove anything, we can't get close._

All we can really do is swallow their bullshit, and learn to like the taste of it. Unless…..

The rest of it was torn…

"Rick Trager….." Fred mumbled.

"Jeepers, that can't be coincidence."

"I don't think so," Fred whispered, "Keep your voice down, your eyes and ears peeled, for our friends and danger."

…

Shaggy was wandering through blank halls that all looked the same. Innocent, and probably guilty, blood decorated each wall, blanketed all the floors, and unified with the buzzing and flickering of the lights and the thumping in his chest to create his worst nightmare. Once or twice he swore he saw a distorted ghost float through the blood stains, like a phantom that was scurrying from the sins of the asylum; was it that much of a Godforsaken place, that ghouls would wither within its cursed halls? What a silly question. Of course it was.

He came upon a spiraling block of cells, at least three stories high. Maybe higher. Three of the four walls were filled with iron bars, inmates locked behind some, others left vacated. Even the prison cells looked as though they were from hell, or perhaps had hell rendered upon them by the Walrider, or the hulking monster, or whatever else was causing this wanton horror.

He ascended the first stairwell and was walking by the cells of cat-calling inmates, lost in fantasies that had to be better than this reality, when he heard the terrible voices from before.

'There he goes."

"Let us engage him. He had his chance."

"Indeed," the voices spoke to the each other as though the walls themselves were speaking, the echoing menace rebounding all around him. Shaggy ran, shining the light wildly around, in hopes of seeing the yet unseen monsters, and evading them. But it was not his light that showed the first, but the thunder light shining through the broken windows that illuminated the first brother before him.

Shaggy skidded to a stop, and doubled back, narrowly evading the swipe of the man's arm, intent on grabbing him and not letting go until they had defiled and tortured him in a way that would do this nightmare justice.

The second appeared at the end of the long stretch behind him. The brothers faces remained unchanged, showing only controlled lust and an element of uncanny normalcy as the thunder and lightning outside revealed their figures, slowly stalking him like the trapped prey he currently was.

"I think I shall also have my way with his hair. It looks soft."

"I do not want his hair."

"Zoinks!" Shaggy cried as the two droned ever nearer his racing heart and shaking body.

Was this the end? There was no way up. No way down. Forwards and backwards were certain doom. To his left was a drop that would leave him at the bottom of the cell block, exposed if he could not recover fast enough. Just an easier setting for the naked twins to enjoy themselves with his body. To the right was the window, partially shattered, and a drop that would leave him to face the elements and anything unknown lurking in the dark. It was also a higher, steeper drop, given the position of the building relative to the mountain's landscape. There was a choice to make, and he would have to make it now.

"Here goes nothing!"

…

"Can you smell anything?" Velma asked, aware of how poor a question it truly was. There was always something about the horrible situations they found themselves in that made all the senses strong, she could only fathom what it was like for Scooby's superior smell and hearing.

In this instance, however, things were elevated so much more than ever before. Evil was a word that bounced around a lot in their circles. An evil spirit was afflicting the people here, or an evil curse had descended on that place over there. She used to inwardly laugh at those claims.

She had never, even as a child, been predisposed to superstitions and nonsense like evil things. Her short experience in Mount Massive had taught her that evil was not something exclusive to mythology or imaginary ghosts. Evil lay in the hearts of men, and what they did when their self-control was taken from them.

Evil was not supernatural, but human.

"Rope…" Scooby informed timidly.

The hall before them was long and dark, and to be sure it was also full of horrors. Far on the other side, they could see a light, and hear the quiet mutterings of the insane and the lost. What was in between them….who could say?

"Well we've wandered around this part of the facility long enough….let's give it a shot. We'll stick close, and if it gets bad, run back here like your life depends on it."

Because, truly, it would.

In the darkness everything was louder. Colder. There was a distinct anxiety that made you feel like the Asylum was watching you, silently motioning you onwards, into the terror, into the dark, into the doom that it boasted quietly in the Colorado mountains. Velma allowed it to psych her out, and her sensation of sight had completely abandoned her for a moment, so she grabbed Scooby's collar, keeping a tight grip on it.

In a moment her vision would return, her heart would beat more regularly than the erratic pace it was going now, and in the meantime she recited things to herself. A calming technique. Horror did not change fact. Even in Mount Massive, gravity pushed you down. Two plus two was still four. Colorado, and by extension the Mount Massive Asylum, was still located in the United States, which was still in North America, which was still in the Western Hemisphere.

And from the starry view of her facts, nothing seemed so bad. Until her sight returned, and she was dragged back down.

A wet sound came from under her feet for a few steps, and she dared not try to figure out what it was. The bright light at the end of the hall was close now. They were almost out of it.

"Stay close…" She warned, fully aware of how quickly a hopeful situation would turn awry.

"Reah…" Scooby breathed, "Ralmost rhere….."

The darkness seemed poised to strike at them as the doorframe became visible and the sounds of many poor souls made themselves heard, but as they stepped into the light, the darkness and its many facades were disproven.

They were now at the bottom of a large cellblock. A head fell from the third floor, missing many components; Velma screamed in muffled terror into her hand as the perpetrator muttered something to another and walked out of the block.

"Most satisfying, if I do say so myself."

"He was quite fun to chase down," She caught the other saying.

"Let us look for another."

"What else should we do?"

By that line, the two monotonous voices were totally drowned out from all the chaos and horror inside the cells.

"Ro no!" Scooby cried.

"What!?"

As she turned, Velma nearly fainted. Chris Walker was carrying a freshly made skull wrapped in leaky human flesh, and heading towards them.

"RUN!" She called.

With one mighty kick, the beastly patient broke through the door and gave pursuit, tossing his trinket aside with the rest of the bloody trash. He was fast on his feet, for such a large monstrosity. It took all their energy to keep out of his wide reach, but they slammed the doors behind them and headed towards the showers, hoping those facilities would not become their tombs.


	5. Sewers

**Faster update than before! Woot woot! Still later than I wished, but...whatever. I've felt a new spark for this story as a new idea came to me, and I truly do feel like this story will be finished one day...but that day is not today. Today, we have chapter 5, and thus begins some of my favorite parts of the game, and I'm really looking forward to bringing my incarnation to this story.**

**So until then, keep your spirits up and your selves hidden under the blanket. Enjoy, and drop a review to let me know how I did this time round. Thanks, fam! I don't own Scooby Doo or Outlast. **

* * *

"Keep running, Daph!" Fred shouted, as much to encourage his friend as to help drown out the calling of their pursuers.

Never before had he ever been so terrified.

"You're both dead! Whores! Whores!"

"If they get away, I'm going to throw you off the mountain!"

"Come on, hurry up!"

The duo rounded a corner and hustled their mad dash down a dusty hallway. They seemed to be nearing an older part of the facility, where the dust was thicker, the echoes somehow louder, and everything about the architecture out of date.

They passed by several doors, but both nearly had a heart attack on the spot when the door to an old chapel flung open just after they passed by and one more assailant joined the harassing fleet behind them.

Daphne hurtled over a gurney left on its side, and Fred did the same, only tossing the overturned wheelchair behind it into the chaser who came from the chapel. He toppled right back over the gurney and into a second pursuer, but three more were still hot on their tails.

"Up ahead!" Daphne called, "Turn right!"

The next choice to be made wasn't easy, but it seemed Daphne had simply picked one grim option from another. The lights up ahead were out, and they could hardly see that the hallway ended in two directions, both as dark as the other. Anything could be around the corner, more inmates, another survivor, their friends perhaps, or maybe their deaths. It was impossible to say, but faith was all they had, so when the time came, they both ran right.

It was an odd sensation, to run for your life when you have absolutely no idea where you're trying to get to. Under any other circumstance, your body would slow on its own, your mind wouldn't allow you to run with no knowledge of what was ahead of you, but when your life was on the line, instinct ruled, everything else, even logic, became secondary.

Perhaps more disturbing was that their chasers were still behind them. They still shouted and screamed and huffed loudly in their pursuit, and Daphne and Fred would keep on running until there was nowhere left to go, or the chase ended one way or another.

"I'm gonna get you!"

"You'll meet the Groom for this!"

Their words gradually enticed a fifth wind in the pair, and they took off even faster despite their shortness of breath. Fear was very potent.

Up ahead, the faintest of lights was coming from the left, and as they quickly neared it, they saw that a storm at some point in time had broken through the wall ever so slightly, and the moonlight was peeking in.

Conveniently, this light shown down on a pit, intentional perhaps, or more than likely simply an area where the floor had given way; whatever was down below smelled awful, but Daphne and Fred both told each other to jump as the pit came upon them.

Being more athletic, Fred made it safely to the other side, but Daphne only barely latched her hands on the other side. With the same speed as he had mustered in the chase, Fred grabbed Daphne by the hand and hoisted her up as two of their attackers jumped right into the pit, screaming, while the third skidded to a halt and ran the opposite way with cursing frustration.

"That was close…."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, "Let's take a second to catch our breath."

The notions of home and freedom and safety were becoming more and more foreign as new normalities set in on them: terror, fear, instinct. Up ahead was more of the same pitch black darkness, but behind wasn't an option. After deciding that their hearts wouldn't get any calmer, they set off once more, slowly this time, creeping around in the blackness and feeling their way around until they found a section of the facility where the lights were still on.

This area seemed to be a storage room, it had many wooden crates with varying labels painted in black on the outsides. Over of half of these boxes said the same thing:

_Transfer from subsidiary site, location, Arkham, MA_

Great, more of the same in other places. That was encouraging.

They rifled through some of the boxes, and found some emergency rations, which they gratefully partook in. Two flashlights were also found so that darkness could not hinder them so much anymore.

Other than that, however, the only thing of use was a sign board on the wall indicating the documentation department, archives, and the crematory were up ahead. They set out, hearts filled with as much despair as before.

* * *

Shaggy could barely tell where he was anymore. The rains had stopped, but the sky outside was darker. Thunder and lightning were not far away, and the sky would occasionally light up to match the constant low growl that hung over the Asylum. It was as much of an apocalyptic site as you could hope for.

By some miraculous chance, he had landed in a pool of water. The naked twins from the male cell blocks had watched him fall, and as Shaggy swam towards shore, they contemplated going after him.

Dreading what may come next, Shaggy ran away from the Asylum. He had no idea where he could go, but if his direction was opposite the cell blocks, he didn't much care at the moment. He ran into the brush of wilderness that neighbored the mental institution, filled with dark bushes and a few trees of varying states of health. Jumping behind one such gnarled tree trunk, Shaggy peered timidly back towards the window he'd escaped by.

The twins were staring deep into each others' eyes, saying nothing verbally. After an unending fifteen or so seconds, they looked back out towards Shaggy one more time, and walked away.

That was the best thing Shaggy had seen since they arrived. He rubbed his temples and tried to get a hold of himself during this small reprieve.

Escape was his first and only priority.

The Mystery Machine was still parked at the front of the administration building - he hoped. He picked himself up and drew nearer towards the edge of the mountain. Behind the facility there were less fences. Yards and lots and designated places, yes, but no large fences or gates or any such thing to prevent a rear escape. Shaggy saw why that just wasn't necessary as he peered nervously over the edge, gulping.

The fall was almost straight down, and it must not end for minutes. They were quite high up, but the road they came through made the trip deceptively easy. Without it, the trip down would be painful, long, and end in sure death.

Unfortunately, that meant he was leaving via the road, by car or foot. The problem with that, though, was that were was a very large fence keeping him from the grounds of the administrative offices. He'd climb it in a heartbeat if it weren't for the barbed wire, and he also saw a sign that it was electrified.

That didn't mean the fence was live, given the state of things, but it was simply a risk he couldn't take. He was going to get out of this one alive, no matter what, and he'd never, ever come back here or go anywhere like it again. No matter how much his friends -

His friends.

He didn't know where they were. He didn't know if they were still alive. Shaggy lowered himself on the cold ground and tried not to hyperventilate.

Shaggy wanted to escape more than anything - except escaping together with his friends. He couldn't leave them, and as much he wanted to, he couldn't even hide in the Mystery Machine until they found him, there was no guarantee they would get back to the van at all.

He had to go back. The realization came with shaking and tears, but he had to.

Moving forwards, the only viable option to get back into the facility was the sewer system. An open manhole with blood leaking down into it sent a grizzly invitation. He doubled checked every door he found, but they were all locked from the inside.

Climbing down the sticky ladder, the horrifying and disgusting odors of the sewer came to him at once. Lightning struck as he reached the bottom, and illuminated a note attached to the brick walls.

Stepping over the corpse he assumed was responsible for the blood at the top of the manhole, Shaggy flicked on his flashlight and read:

_Trager owns the Operating Rooms, the second, third, and fourth floors of the administration building. DON'T BE FOOLED! _

_The Groom owns the old industrial complex. AVOID EVERYTHING IN THAT LOT!_

_Chris Walker haunts EVERYWHERE. ALWAYS keep an eye on your back._

_You don't want to know what's in the basement. IT'S THE LAST PLACE YOU WANT TO BE! _

Shaggy gulped and stuck the note in his pocket. It sounded as though it was meant for people like him, but he didn't know who wrote it, or if anyone like him was left to find it. He took some comfort in the face that none of these monsters were in the sewers….but the part about Chris Walker alarmed him greatly and made him check over his shoulder compulsively about every four seconds.

Off into the stenches of waste and death, Shaggy proceeded.

* * *

It felt like an eternity that they were crouched in the darkness, hidden behind brick and waste and blood from the hungry eyes of the hulking monster who had chased Velma and Scooby through the showers and into a hole that led them to the sewers.

His deep breaths and sharp exhalations made the pair shiver every time. He muttered something about "little pigs" and "breakdowns" as he passed them for the last time and went down a ladder, deeper into the trap of old metal and grime.

Of course, it was Velma and Scooby who were trapped, and even if they escaped these sewers, they weren't out, not by a long shot.

"Okay...I think we've lost him," Velma breathed in relief, "but I don't know how we'll ever find Fred, Daph, and Shaggy...not to mention my friend Waylon."

Scooby whined lowly, Velma running her hand over his head and the side of his nuzzle for encouragement. Logically, they should head up now, it was the only way to ensure they'd not get trapped in the sewers...yet her sense of curiosity was alive and well despite the horrors.

They didn't know where Waylon was, nor any of their friends. For all they knew, there might be a legitimate escape in the sewers, and the monster had gone to guard it before they found it. If that was the case, it would take luck and smart maneuvering, but they could probably get out alive.

And so the choice had to be made, certainty or hope? If they went up, they were certain to find more hellish nightmares come to life, if they went down, they could hope to find exactly what they needed.

"What do you think, Scoob? Up or down?" Velma asked when she'd gone in circles a few times.

Scooby realized the depth of the choice as well, it seemed. After a moment of silent hesitation, he gave his answer timidly.

"Rup."

"Up it is then."

They ascended the ladder from whence the monster splashed down only minutes ago, quietly peering through the hatch at the top, and entering into a lowly-lit hallway, steel grating below their feet, hollowed mountain at their sides and above them. There was no worse place to be for a trap. Velma prayed they would make it to the end where a door invited them through, slightly ajar. Velma peered down the other direction, and noticed the tunnel had collapsed upon itself; there was no passage there.

A low whistle was running through the lonely corridor, weaving through the metal and leaping across stone. Their steps were loud, though the whistle persisted. Velma set her mind to studying it, but also made sure she was paying attention to the door and the hatch they had come from.

As they walked farther along, the whisper seemed to evolve. Whereas it only a distant, quiet murmur when they began, it now seemed to speak words, words in shapes she didn't know, words with meanings so sinister, she dared not try to decrypt them.

Yet, the more she focused on the whisper, the more the words became clear, and she could arrange them into rough sizes and portions in her mind, and even convert their intentions into the languages and writings she knew. Still, the exact meanings continued to eluded her, and for that she was grateful.

One alarming word, though, was translated for her, and if she ever had an out of body experience, it had been now. She saw herself, and Scooby Doo, walking through the dreary hall, marching nervously towards unseen things, and behind those unseen things, a thousand more, and behind everything in this Asylum, seen and unseen, known and mysterious, was a power and an evil she could hardly comprehend. A splitting headache found her at once and she faltered, nearly dropping to her knees.

WALRIDER.

She almost toppled over Scooby, and began shaking and breathing raggedly.

"Relma!?" Scooby exclaimed so loudly it frightened her further.

Velma blinked many times and shook her head, seeing and hearing and thinking just fine - and that was the problem. Whatever she'd just observed, however briefly, had given her knowledge she wanted nothing more than to reject. Only she could not. Some things were permanent once you knew them. Some things...could never be erased.

"I...did you hear it? The whisper?"

"Rhisper? Rhat Rhisper?"

Velma sighed and stood up again, shaking but steadier than before, "Nevermind. Let's keep going…"

They reached the door and Velma slid it open and backed away, afraid of what she might find.

It was an open pool of grime, waste, and muck. Festering like a rotted wound under the mountain, it smelled worse than anything before it, in and out of the Asylum. It was dark here, none of the lights were working. She still had the glow stick, but it was of such little help here, she may as well have not even bothered.

The pool and darkness, stacked together, stretched on for eternity.

And just as Velma had decided that nothing was amiss here, a low, gurgling rumble spread across the water, as though something beneath had stirred in its long sleep.

* * *

Shaggy had wandered through so many halls and rooms that looked exactly the same, he wasn't even sure he was in the same sewer he had started in. He found one more note on the wall, this one slightly more reassuring than the other, but if anything, it was just more confusing.

_There's deeper mysteries here than we thought. Murkoff has a long line of transgressions against the world, but I think Murkoff may be only part of the grand scheme. The more time I spend here, the more I hear it. I feel it. I can understand it when it speaks in the dark corners. _

_At first, I thought I was going insane. And why not? Anyone would in the same circumstances. But then I found a pattern...an intelligence, rather than a random, chaotic string of action. It was hard to understand at first, it still is, but it goes beyond Murkoff, or anything they could think up. I half believe that, and I know it sounds crazy, this...other, super-intelligent evil...is using Murkoff for its own ends. Is it the specter of horror I've heard so much about in here? This…..Walrider?_

_I don't even know. But the mere thought of an evil even greater than Murkoff looming over the Asylum and so much more...it makes me sicker to my stomach than anything else here._

_God save us. Please._

Now, he stepped into a cavernous place, a long stretch of dark and sewer water, a pool that he was deathly afraid to go into. He had his flashlight, and when he shined it into the water, it was dark, greenish-gray, with black splotches here and there, floating in mists of nauseating odor.

He didn't want to get in, but if he didn't, he was going to be wandering around for who knew how long, and if he ran into some kind of monster back there….well, the pool liked slightly more inviting now.

He groaned as his legs were submerged, and he instantly felt gross and unwholesome.

The trip was too noisy for his liking, splashing around in the water, trying to navigate through the other side. It was tense here too, not just because the foul air and lack of ventilation. He hated to dwell on it, but he felt more and more like something was out there, waiting for him.

By instinct he turned around and flashed the light into the void of darkness; he could barely perceive the door and the stone wall from whence he came, and he wish he hadn't. The door was shut now, and Shaggy had left it open. Instant panic set in, and he hurried himself forwards.

Whether he was racing against something living, dead, in between, or just maybe in his mind, he didn't care. He put everything into running through the sewage, until the first reassuring thing he'd heard since the call of dinner had hit his ears.

"Shaggy!?" Velma called out.

"Zoinks! Velma? Velma!?"

"RAGGY!"

Shaggy spun and the form of his bestest friend, most loyal companion in the world, and the best pet dog he'd ever owned came springing towards him, Velma close behind.

"Oh man am I glad to see you two! What a night!"

"Tell me about it...I hate to admit it, but we really have bitten off more than we can chew. We have to find Daphne and Fred, and see if we can figure out where Waylon is too, and then we have to leave. No unmasking the monsters this time..."

"My thoughts exactly," Shaggy replied, only now beginning to break his embrace with Scooby, and then it hit him, "Wait...you don't know where they are?"

Velma shook her head, "We got separated earlier."

"Well, at least I caught up with someone. I thought I was gonna lose my mind and die alone in the dark…"

"Do you know the way out of the sewers? The big patient followed us in...the one Scooby told me grabbed you and threw you from the second floor of the administration building."

"Zoinks!" Shaggy murmured and looked around him with a trembling hand on the flashlight.

"Shaggy, focus, do you know the way out?"

"The only way I know of that goes out of the sewer is somewhere behind me, but I came in because there's nothing to find out there. Only locked doors and steep falls."

"We could go out the way Scooby and I came in, but there's a lot of dangers that way...I almost want to stay down here a while, see if we can-"

A thundering crash and enormous splash of water signaled his arrival. The brutish monster was back, and he'd got their scent again. His fierce growl rumbled across the entire cavern, and all three exclaimed in horror, running in the opposite direction of the monster.

Shaggy lead them on, having the flashlight, but it was difficult, especially with the intense threat of the monster breathing down their necks, splashing and crashing loudly in the grimey waters.

They were going on adrenaline alone by the time a new light found them. Two flickering bulbs illuminated an alcove in the watery pit that they had been entrapped in, and an old elevator sat, gate swung open.

Running even faster towards their only hope, they dove into the alcove and as Velma and Scooby worked on the controls, the monster roared in anger and frustration as his prey neared eluding him once more. Shaggy shown the light at him, but if it blinded him at all, he didn't show it. With a bloodlust thick as a soldier's duty, he raged onward, hands outstretched.

"It's not working...not enough power!" Velma realized with a screech.

Shaggy slammed the metal gate closed, but it would hardly fend off the beastly pursuer more than a few seconds. He began having a breakdown as the elevator snapped briefly to life, raising them a foot off the ground and then falling back down.

"Come on!" Velma cried.

The beast was close to alcove, so close that when an unfamiliar voice spoke through an old speaker, Shaggy thought it was the beast himself, hands already around their throats.

"None of you are like them, are you? I'll turn on the power, hold on!" The voice called.

Velma continued to mash the controls as Shaggy and Scooby shook in each others hold, the light still shining wildly at their hunter as he rushed into the alcove. An electrical hum signaled their salvation - if the lift was fast enough.

They bounced a foot up again, but instead of falling, they stayed put for an eternity, and then bounced up another few feet so that the monster's giant hands were clawing at the bottom of the cage, rattling it so fiercely they all screamed at the top of their lungs.

But salvation did come, and the lift zoomed up without further issue, and they collectively sighed, once more having escaped from the sure death the wandering monster brought.

Velma chuckled as they ascended to the welcome company of someone who wasn't crazy or out for their skulls. The silence was welcome and the trio leaned against each other for support. A few short seconds of rest. It was long overdue, and over too soon.

The lift began to slow, and the stone it had previously been ascending between had turned to metal; it seemed they were back inside the facility, but as to what department or block, none of them could say for certain. The lift opened up in a shockingly well lit storage area, which was presumable near the kitchens, for a walk in freezer was left open to the far right.

As they exited, the trio met to face to face with a man in street clothes, and Velma gasped.

"Waylon!"

The smiling man toppled over and something whacked them all over the heads. Waylon Park had a hole in his back, almost as big as his entire chest.

"Well, well," The same voice that had saved them just seconds ago said, "What do we have here?"

A thin man, practically a skeleton wrapped in ripe and rotting muscles, with a brown, bloodied apron around his waist and some kind of syringe weaved all around his arm was peering over them. His hair flowed grey and grimy and long everywhere but the top and front of his head. He spoke behind a torn surgical mask, his voice shockingly calm and eloquent for the environment he found himself in.

"Two new patients and a dog. Hmm. Sorry buddy, I don't have a license to work on animals. Not that I have license for people either, but you just don't interest me like your friends. Back to Gluskin you go."

The mad doctor hauled the dazed Scooby back into the life and sent it back down to the sewers.

Velma and Shaggy were lifted onto a gurney and strapped together onto it by the time either had regained their bearings.

"As for you two, well, I'd be happy to take a break with you guys. Let's get together for lunch, shall we? I'll take real good care of both of you."

The mad doctor wheeled them away from the storage area, and they were quickly back in the administration block, in fact, the front doors were now open.

"Hey, you know what, you guys look a little peeky. Who can blame you, being in that sewer and all. Wanna go for a midnight stroll? Go ahead, I'll wait for you here."

Shaggy and Velma wanted nothing more, but they were still dazed, and the restraint was rather tight. More so than ever before, they were trapped.

"No? You sure? Alright, nose-to-the-grindstone kind of folks, I like it. Let's get to it then."

The mad doctor wheeled them away and into an ever larger elevator, pushing the button that would take them to the operating rooms. The entrance left their views, and Shaggy and Velma prepared themselves for the worst yet.


End file.
